


wonderland

by starksrhodey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, No Angst, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Superfamily, Toddler Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksrhodey/pseuds/starksrhodey
Summary: This was... theirs. And no one would take that away. Peter was their son and would grow up in a household with two present parents; no fear of losing either of them in a mission. They were a family, and they weren’t alone.They never would be.





	wonderland

“Morning, sweetheart.” The sound of Steve’s voice broke Tony from his thoughts. He had been enjoying the morning out on the deck of the lake house; watching the world come alive as it gradually woke up.

Tony quirked a brow, tilting his head up to flash the blond a kind smile. He took a measured sip of his coffee, hiding his smile into the mug as Steve stepped closer; pressing the length of his body into the brunet’s own.

“Missed you.” Steve yawned, nosing his way into the crook of Tony’s neck. He pressed a chaste kiss there, once, and then twice before pausing to rest. The blond’s arm snaked around Tony’s waist, interlocking with one another to encircle him. “Hate waking up without you.”

“I feel like I should mention how twisted our routines have become.” Tony noted, setting his mug onto the banister before leaning back into the Captain’s embrace. “Remind me again.” He continued, a faux innocent tone wrapping around his words. “Who was it that used to wake up at five A.M. for their morning run?”

Steve pinched the skin around Tony’s hip, huffing as the brunet let out a squawk of disapproval. “We’re on _vacation_ , might I add. Which is supposed to mean _rest_.”

The blond was right. They had prioritized down time once Peter’s adoption had been finalized. Heroing slowed down for the both of them, especially Tony. They both worked as consultants for SHIELD and would always be on call if the time came where the world needed them again. But they were no longer the first ones sent out to deal with the weekly villain.

Steve worked at SHIELD as a training coordinator and helped new heroes and agents develop skills and strategies while Tony mostly just continued working on developing technology and upgrades. It worked well for both of them. 

They deserved down time. 

So while Tony understood Steve’s logic, it didn’t prevent the retort Tony had for him on the tip of his tongue.

But then... he faltered just as the pitter patter sound of feet reached the front porch. His torso twisted in the direction of the noise just as Steve pulled back, both of them expectantly waiting for the door to open. It came slowly, the sound of a body colliding into it causing the brunet to wince. But then the screen door shoved open, but only briefly. The springs and gravity caused the door to be tugged backwards, as the weight against it wasn’t strong enough to force it open.

“Uh....” A high pitched voice rang out, the tone being that of exasperation. “A wittle help pwease?”

The blond took three long strides toward the door, his hand reaching out to tug it open. A brunet head popped around the corner, the beaming face of one Peter Stark-Rogers peering up at the two.

“Thank you!” Peter bounced on his feet, throwing his arms around Steve’s legs. “It was a heavy door.”

“The heaviest.” Steve spoke seriously, nodding in agreement. His hand settled on the toddler’s head, brushing through the soft curls. “But you asked for help. Just like we told you.”

“Cuz I’m a big boy!” Peter nodded quickly. “And– and big boys ask for help!”

“That’s right.” Tony joined in, squatting down and opening his arms. “How about some breakfast?”

Peter gasped, his face lighting up to such a degree that Tony struggled to not fall into fits of laughter. The toddler politely removed Steve’s hand from his hair, sending his famous grin up toward the blond before toddling across the deck as fast as he could.

“Bweakfast!” Peter cheered, clambering into Tony’s arms as the billionaire began to stand. “What we have for bweakfast? Pizza?”

Steve let out a snort, sending Tony a look that read _he definitely takes after you._

“Pizza?” Tony inquired, sending his charge into fits of giggles as he juggled him. The brunet paused and maneuvered Peter to his hip. He leaned in to his ear to whisper the next part teasingly. “Something tells me Papa wouldn’t be too pleased with me if I gave you pizza.” 

Peter frowned, the skin between his eyebrows furrowing as he scrunched his nose. His wide brown eyes darted to Steve’s unimpressed stance before leaning back to peer into Tony’s face.

“You on the couch if we eat pizza for bweakfast.” Peter nodded in understanding, sending Steve a small frown as he tapped his wrist. “No put Daddy on couch, Papa. Puh-lease.”

Steve pressed his lips into a thin line, an awful attempt to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. If the stern look had been directed at anyone else aside from their son, Tony may have called the blond out on it. Except... it was directed toward Peter. Not to mention, all of the parenting books discussed the importance of presenting a united front. 

Children, toddlers especially, could smell indifference. 

“Of course not.” Steve reached for Peter, a light hum falling past his lips as leaning down toward’s his husband. Tony inwardly preened as the blond pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling Peter on his hip. “How about pancakes or waffles?”

“Cakes!” Peter cheered, his left hand clutching at the material of Steve’s shirt as he popped his right thumb in his mouth.

Tony watched after the two until their figures disappeared into the house. The sound of Peter’s tinkling laughter and Steve’s muffled voice could be heard from the brunet’s position on the deck. He smiled softly, his stance gentling as he turned back towards the front yard. His eyes scanned the yard line as he absentmindedly reached for his abandoned mug of coffee. 

No danger.

No threat.

Tony was content.

Happy.

He could breathe.

It was time for him to live.

“Daddy!” Peter shrieked, his voice cracking as giggles threatened to pour through. “Papa– papa is using the _wrong_ stuff.”

Tony grinned knowingly to himself. Steve was a sucker for making homemade pancakes, and Peter often requested chocolate ones. The two often tried to limit the toddler’s sugar intake, thus using dark chocolate as a healthier alternative. 

“Dark chocolate?” He called out, securing his grip on his mug before pulling the screen door open. “Papa. What did we say on vacation?”

Steve huffed, his actions contradicting themselves as he shot both of them a fond look. “We’re allowed to... indulge.”

Tony stepped further into the kitchen, placing his mug into the sink before propping his hip against the counter top. Peter scooted towards him, oblivious to the watchful eyes tracking his movement near the edge of the granite.

“Hi, Petey.” Tony ruffled his sons hair. “Sleep good?”

“Uhuh.” The child nodded eagerly, swinging his legs back and forth. “Can I have some juice, pwease?”  
Tony stood straighter, his eyes flickering towards the fridge just as a hand shoved a sippie cup towards him. The brunet shot Steve a thankful smile before offering it towards a pleased Peter. He made sure the toddler had a firm grasp on it before he glanced away, his arm still braced outward incase the child took a swan dive off the edge.

His eyes traced over the kitchen, taking note of the countless ingredients pulled out along with pans and trays. The billionaire’s eyes fell onto the figure of his husband, greedily taking in the outline of his broad shoulders. Steve was busy at work, his left arm idly stirring a pan of what appeared to be scrambled eggs while his right began turning pancakes onto their opposing side.

“That better be real chocolate.” Rhodey’s voice broke their silence, his threat falling on deaf ears as Peter’s eyes snapped towards him.

“Uncle Whodey!” He cheered, pulling the cap of his drink away to speak. “Daddy doesn’t have to sleep on the couch!”

Rhodey snorted, his retort faltering at the sound of a deep yawn from the doorway. He glanced back, smirking at the sight of a disheveled Bucky Barnes stumbling into the room.

The sight within itself wasn’t unusual, no. Tony had grown rather accustomed to Barnes stumbling into the kitchen later than everyone else over time. It just _was._ After all, Bucky seemed to have no issue taking space in their guest room.

It had been three years since the final battle with Thanos and Bucky still slept in their guest room. Tony didn’t exactly see that changing, he thought wryly. Not that it bothered him, oh no. Not at all. It was a bit... tense, at first. The way the two danced around one another and tried to avoid confrontation. Tony had forgave him long ago, but Bucky hadn’t known that. 

It didn’t help that Tony struggled with making it known. It took Steve sitting them both down and giving them his best stern look before they talked it out. And then the rest was history. So, no, it wasn’t an issue. After all, they had a live in babysitter at all times. 

The Avengers were on break, so things were slow. Clint was spending time with his family, Bruce was working on his next PhD, Thor was off world, and Natasha was prioritizing several nonprofit organizations for women and children. 

Things were going well for them. The world had so many new heroes now; they didn’t need the Avengers to drop everything every time a new villain emerged. 

“What’s this about Stark being sent to the couch?” Bucky croaked, his attempt at poking fun of Tony failing due to his less than kept appearance.

“Uncle Bucky...” Peter frowned, abruptly leaning forward as the super soldier trailed towards the barstools. Tony shot his arm out to hold Peter back from toppling off the counter, huffing in amusement as the child didn’t even appear phased. “Are you... sick?”

Rhodey burst into laughter, instantly turning away as Peter turned a scowl towards him. He stifled his laughter with a cough and cleared his throat. “Yeah, kid, you could say he’s sick.”

“Fuck off.” Bucky grumbled, wincing as Steve shot him a dark look. “I mean– stop bullying me.” He added lamely.

“Uncle Whodey... is a bully?” Peter gasped, dropping his juice. It clattered to the floor as his hands grasped his cheeks in what appeared to be horror.

Steve muttered something under his breath and pinched his nose before swatting Bucky’s head.

Rhodey covered his smile with his hand and sent the hungover soldier a smug smirk.

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” Tony spoke up, stepping into Peter’s line of sight. “Uncle Bucky–“ The brunet cut himself off to shoot the man in question a glare before pulling back to send his child a reassuring smile. “He was only joking. He meant Uncle Rhodey was teasing him over... a game. Because Bucky lost.”

“So no bully?” Peter’s eyes peered up at him hopefully. Tony’s heart clenched. He would move planets for this kid.

“No bully.” Tony agreed, reaching out to tickle Peter’s stomach. “Papa doesn’t like bullies, remember? And he’s friends with Uncle Rhodey. So that must mean...”

“Uncle Rhodey is no bully!” Peter finished, gasping in realization. The billionaire nodded in turn, leaning down to press a kiss to the child’s cheek. 

“You’re so smart!” Tony peppered kisses along his face, chuckling to himself as Peter squirmed under his affection. “I think...” He trailed off, pausing for emphasis. “You might be the smartest little boy.”

The child preened under Tony’s praise, his face lighting up with pure unadulterated joy. It was hard to not miss. The billionaire’s heart ached at the sight, for once feeling like he was making the right decision. Peter would grow up knowing he was loved and cherished. 

Tony would make sure of it.

“You silly, Daddy.” Peter flashed a toothy smile, his hands reaching out to pat Tony’s face. His facial expression faltered briefly, his lips twisting together. “And you scratchy.”

The billionaire didn’t have to glance up to be aware of the amused faces around him. That, and, well, Peter was adorable. Everything seemed much funnier when said by someone barely three feet tall. His brown eyes flickered towards the stove top, rolling his eyes at the silent shaking of Steve’s shoulders.

“Sorry, Petey.” Tony apologized, a smirk curling around his lips as he bopped the toddler’s nose. “Pops likes the scratchy. ‘Says I look quite _slick._ ”

“Tony!” Steve squawked in disapproval, his apron fluttering as he whirled around. His cheeks had flushed a vibrant red, something Tony notes as he watched the blond cross his arms.

Steve’s obvious contempt didn’t prevent Rhodey and Bucky from erupting into fits of laughter, however. The Stark-Rogers family were often the focal point of entertainment, and this time most certainly was no different. 

Tony couldn’t help but bask in this atmosphere. It felt surreal, even. The image made for the picture perfect image of domesticity. Steve Rogers, Tony’s _husband_ , was platting breakfast in their house on the lake. They were on _vacation._ Because that was allowed now.

Rhodey and Bucky had been the only ones available to accompany them on this trip, but that would change later in the summer. The entire gang would get together for the Fourth of July in order to celebrate Steve’s birthday. 

But still.

This was... theirs. And no one would take that away. Peter was their son and would grow up in a household with two present parents; no fear of losing either of them in a mission. They were a family, and they weren’t alone. 

They never would be.

The sound of ceramic being placed onto the counter top jarred Tony from his thoughts. He glanced up just as Steve tugged Peter by the hips and over the counter, the child being sent into fits of laughter at being grabbed from behind.

Steve settled him into his high chair and worked on clipping a bib around his neck; it would prove futile. Brown eyes flickered to the right, watching Bucky swat at Rhodey’s hand as the Colonel attempted to steal a few sausage links. The sound of their bickering felt _normal._ Tony glanced up, startled as a plate was nudged in front of him. 

His head rose, eyes meeting Steve’s own. The blond offered him a soft smile, his gaze tearing away from Tony’s to politely decline Peter’s insistence at him taking a bite of the toddler’s gummy mushed up... food. If that’s what you could call it.

The brunet leaned back in his chair, his hand absentmindedly settling over where his heart would be. He felt full of emotion, but not enough to be choked up. It was... a humbling sensation. He had so much.

Tony Stark had a family.

“I think you need to tell daddy to eat.” Steve whispered conspiringly to Peter, sending Tony a knowing look. The brunet smiled guiltily at being caught up in his thoughts.

Peter scrunched up his nose and glanced up, his face smeared with bits of egg and syrup. His eyes glanced at Tony’s full plate before he shook his spoon in the billionaire’s direction. “Eat eat!”

“Yes, sir!” Tony saluted, chuckling as he began scooping up bits of pancake.

They would be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back with a superfamily fic this time! I figured the Steve(Tony) fandom could use a bit of fluff after Endgame.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this!
> 
> \- Please feel free to leave me kudos and comments! I really love and appreciate this. 
> 
> You can find me on twitter at @winterstarks.


End file.
